The Maddening Cometh the Light
by Todd McCloud
Summary: How truly terrible a mechanized society is. If only the Cornerians knew the sterile hell before the shadows fell upon them.
1. Prologue

Prologue

_I can't believe I still dream._

Quicker than the sprinting fox, one thousand years stretch into the future like a twisting stairway crooked by the knots of time. Corneria has been overrun by a conquering planet, a planet that not only conquers men, but conquers spirit as well. They stress equality, the equality of everyone and everything. Yet what is equality? And what could possibly come of a society of equals?

Nearly a century ago this planet was struck with impressive force, taking the once glorious Cornerian fleet by storm. At first, the invaders seemed like an insignificant band of outsiders, but that would all change with the ignition of one bomb.

_It... it was a chemical... a horrible, awful chemical. So horrible, that it didn't kill us. So horrible, that it killed the green and replaced it with death. It is dead. All of it is dead. We used to know its name, but our history books have been taken from us. They took everything from us._

"They" are known as the Eogos, which, in the Cornerian language means "force." In one short century, they managed to take away all of the rights of the citizens. After the Treaty of Kavalisk (2931), the Eogos lured them in, calling for the Cornerians to "unite under their cause" and "fight for what is good." They promised glory. They promised restoration of their planet's vegetation. Then, they promised to leave when the task was completed.

_But the task... what was that task? I've forgotten. It doesn't seem like it's been complete. I think it had something to do with making our planet as one huge base for the Eogos to launch an invasion across the Lylat system... Only the Almighty knows what's become of that._

A generation passed, and progress was slow. A revolt, lead by a leader whose name is not to be mentioned on Cornerian soil ever again was mildly successful until it was crushed in a cruel twist of fate - a volcanic eruption. As punishment, the Eogos wanted to make certain their plan was completed, so they stripped the citizens of every single right they had. Paranoia was a daily struggle.

_We are the Cornerians. Slaves is a better name for us. We are forced down to the common denominator - everything is restricted. Those that run fast wear weighted shoes so that we run the same as NORM. Those that hear better have minute holes installed into their eardrums to soften the tones. NORM stands for NO Range of Methods. Our children learn as fast as NORM standard - the smart ones are beaten in the back of their heads and given medication that makes their hands tremble and contort, so they can't write well. I myself was one of them, and the drugs still affect my writing, though I think I've grown immune to their IQ numbing side effects. We eat the same rations, a syringe filled with nutrients, as well as medication that regulates our bodies to look thin and sickly, so there is no beauty. Our faces are hidden behind masks. Each person wears the same style, so we have no real need to look each other in the eyes while communicating. They are like gas masks - except they restrict our breathing if we partake in strenuous activity. A voice recorder records all we speak too, so we can never speak our minds._ _What's worse is love has been stripped of our rights too. Any citizen who speaks of love is exterminated. The only way we can tell each other apart is by the clothes we wear - which is full black for men, with a dress, jacket, and boots. Women wear a white dress under a white jacket with black boots. However, we have been allowed to style our hair differently, so that is typically taken to the extremes. Our tails too hold clues about who we are, as sometimes fur grows there. But, other than that, we have only a name and a barcode on our left hands. Nothing more, and nothing less._

The Eogos then scorched the sky - sunlight was no longer needed now that fusion power plants have been built. It is rumored that the sky has been poisoned too, but that could be just the way the air looks from under industrial light - which is everywhere in the form of streetlamps. They distributed each citizen to a task, determined by their barcode. Each day they do their work until they must go home to their barracks.

_I can't stand it any longer. I think I'd rather die than live out the sixty more years of my life. There must be a way to stop them. There has to be a way to escape this maddening world._


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One

The day started like any other. On a twenty-four hour time schedule, riveters were required to wake up at six dot zero. But, there was no such thing as day and night - so one no longer had what could be called a biological clock. Instead, a high pitched noise was emitted from the mask, giving Joshuo horrible headaches until he stepped through the electromagnetic portal to the factory he worked.

He hated to think while this happened - he typically forgot to lock the door to his barrack - an eight by eight room with a bed, chair, table, sink, and toilet all fashioned in a plain gray color. It was so utilitarian, as there was no such sign of identity, no such sign of independence, and no such sign of spirit whatsoever. The sterile environment was brutal for the intellectually creative mind, but for the overseers, it was perfect. Everything was in line perfectly.

_Good God, please stop this terrible sound_, he thought.

As he stood from his bed, he felt his hair – parted down the center and slightly long – then gazed at it in a mirror he kept hidden under the mattress. Though he knew being caught with the object would only bring pain, an identity was still of prime importance to him. But even so, it was horrible. Often he wondered what was behind the large tinted eyes and the stiff rubber face. But it would only remain a wonder, as he reminded himself that taking off the mask was impossible – electromagnetically sealed metallic straps found their way across the back of his head, holding portions of his hair in their wake. With a hesitant sigh he quickly hid the mirror and stepped in front of the door as it opened without a sound.

Even the walk was depressing. Everything on the street he lived on, 10243 St., was just like the others in the residential A-189 complex - gray, flat, and drab. No trees were present, but some soil could be found if one scraped away the thin layer of powdered asphalt. Then again, when was there time to do that? And how could a riveter even dream of doing that? His magnetic shoes kept him within the boundaries of the street. Still he pictured a bright sun overhead, remembering the textbooks of his youth, but one look upward revealed a black sky dimly lit by high streetlights.

The only thing that kept him from insanity was drawing. He loved to draw - anything and everything. It didn't require him to talk so he wouldn't be overheard. It was the one thing that allowed his creativity to soar, even if his hands still shook from the medication he took as a child. He drew everything - but he didn't know what it was he drew. It was things he remembered reading in his text book, like flowers in a field, or ocean waters as blue as... well... it was blue. Amazing colors, the green of trees were yellowed by the venerable sun, the crackly grass was speckled with living and dying blades of hundreds of shades, and beautiful beaches and coves sprawled out in a wonderful symphony of spectrum. Yes, his charcoal pencil was his tool, and his east wall was his workspace, which made locking his door paramount. He could only imagine the colors, but it was satisfying – if he could squint his eyes only slightly, he swore he could see green.

_I know, I know I'm late! Stop the sound!_

It was lonely too. Almost as bad as the normalcy of society was the inability to feed his interests in others. No love meant no contact with others, as far as he was concerned. He didn't really know what love was - but he was sure it involved a member of the opposite sex, and sharing ideas with them in an attempt to communicate. But that was only half of what he knew. He knew it was deeper - much more... "together" and-

**PLEASE ENTER**

Joshuo passed through the electromagnetic portal swiftly, arriving at his daily locale. The beeping in his mask ceased, much to his relief, and he kept walking toward the massive structure in front of him, complete with hundreds of smokestacks and tiny windows lining the perimeter. Also surrounding the premises was an electric fence. Joshuo glanced at the chain links. He could never figure out why there would ever need to be a fence to keep people to their jobs.

Entering the factory and beginning his job was never an easy task. He first stepped into a hallway which opened a room full of probing machines that would remove his garments and check his vital parts for anything unusual. He always held his breath for this part, fearing they would find something wrong and thus deem him obsolete. Once his body was exposed, his skeletal frame stepped through the doorway and into a line, behind a vixen like himself.

"What is your name?" she asked, obviously not concerned about the reading in her mask holding onto her every word.

Joshuo hesitated. "Joshuo," he muttered. "I don't think we should be talking for this."

She nodded then, as she glanced at the moving line, she turned to him. Like the countless people he had seen before her, he noticed her body too was emaciated, lacking any form of fat whatsoever. He never truly understood why, but seeing a female in front of him without any clothes made his heart race. "Where do you work?"

Joshuo looked to the floor. "I'm a riveter." He paused again. Sighing, he didn't know what to say – if he should carry on the conversation and risk pain or ignore her and play it safe. He cleared his throat. "What do you do?"

"I'm a parts inspector. I inspect the cogs that are used for tanks, so I'm told."

"I understand." When he looked up, he noticed many scars across her back. Apparently he didn't notice it before – perhaps it was because the lighting was better closer to the cleansing point. "What happened to you?"

Turning toward him once more, she extended his arm out to him, then hugged him around the neck, to which Joshuo tried to back away.

"Stop it!" he cried.

"Hey!"

Both foxes turned toward a man dressed in all black.

"Unacceptable behavior will not be tolerated! Present hands!"

Each one gingerly held out their left hands as a device was placed over them. It scanned for the barcode and beeped once the clearance was accepted.

"First warning of the day – six dot eleven. I _don't_ think I need to remind you what happens once you receive another!"

Both nodded at the grim guard. Yet their attention was swayed to the cleansing machine – a necessary process to begin the daily shift. It consisted of a single room lined with guards. A single opening loomed over the concrete floor complete with metal gratings, allowing the sticky fluid to blast onto the host below and seep down through the floor below. Slogans ran across the wall.

"Will you be here tomorrow, Joshuo?"

Joshuo turned away from her. "I don't want to get into any more trouble."

"Please?" she muttered. Grabbing his hand, she placed it onto her scarred back without any struggle.

Pausing, the male watched as she was suddenly grappled by guards and forced into the room. He nodded, knowing his response would never be recorded.

"Your turn!"

As Joshuo was manhandled by a team of guards, he tried to watch every moment of the vixen he could. He saw her standing under the small hole in the center of the room, awaiting the daily ritual. Her body was feeble and weak, much like the others, but hers was different. _In spite of her troubles… she's become different._

Suddenly, he found himself under the spigot. As if on cue, the fluid blasted out of the hole, burning his skin with stinging pressure. He was told that the pain meant it was working, that his red skin coming out of the chamber was a sign he truly was clean. Pain was always good – it meant his obedience to the system was not to be questioned. Pain kept the fear far from his shallow thoughts, though it always loomed there like darkness over a horizon.

"Move!"

Someone grabbed his arm and pushed him forward to a moving conveyor belt. He stepped on it without any form of protest and watched as machines with long, spidery fingers probed his body, scanning his body while paying extra attention between his legs. The twinkling digits glistened from the overhead lighting dowsing the area lined with soldiers without faces, gawking at him, watching him every twitch and shake, just in case he were to step out of line. Another thin clamp lifted his tail, then shook it once the scan was complete.

"Get going!"

Pushed by another armed guard, he stumbled over to another machine. This one quickly replaced his clothes to his body, returning the sense of dignity yet shackling the restrictions of normalcy. His magnetic boots fastened to his feet and switched on once he stepped from the industrial mess of a machine.

Cold yet somewhat refreshed, Joshuo continued moving forward as faceless guards eyed him and continued to push him forward if they felt he was moving out of line. He followed the path to a dark elevator which lit up with glowing purple lighting on the floor once he stepped in. It jolted downward and placed Joshuo in the full splendor of a typical Cornerian factory. Thousands of machines sprawled out across the massive room that seemed to stretch for miles across. Thousands of workers busily began the processes for the first shift, as the third shift was quickly nearing its end.

As he stepped off the shaft, he extended his hand and waited for a guard to scan the barcode embedded within his thin flesh. A single beep signaled his clearance, allowing him to board a small craft that would take him to his destination. Once he placed both feet onto the hovering platform, his boots magnetized to the metal and remained in place as the surface glided across rows upon rows of cogs, sheets, rivets, traction bars, I-beams, contraptions, devices, conveyor belts, dim light bulbs, cords, shafts, wires, wireframes, molten vats, barred windows, heavy machinery, blast furnaces, and workers. Home never seemed so dark.

Finally, the platform came to a halt. Joshuo felt his boots demagnetize and he stepped off in haste. He had arrived at his post – a small niche located just between three large gears, a press machine, and a conveyor belt. As he passed over an electromagnetic barrier, a loud beeping noise soon began to fill his mask. It was a timer – simply used to keep his productivity high from hour to hour, day to day. Each beep – and he counted the intervals to be roughly five and one third seconds – was the allotted time required to press one rivet into one 1x7x.5 cubic meter slab of sheet metal. Any less than the given time and he would fall behind. And to fall too far behind, well, he never asked what would happen.

The first slab made its way across the rickety conveyer belt. He lined the rivet into the appropriate hole and reached for the button to press it into place just in time. _That was close,_ he thought. _Is she still on my mind?_ He glanced down at his thin, long coat, reflecting on the places where she hugged him. _What did that mean? Is that why we mustn't ever touch each other except the hands?_

Another rivet made it into a dark sheet metal before the beep. _Should I shave my head so she doesn't know it is me tomorrow? No. I will not sacrifice that. But what will happen if that happens again? I already have one note against me._

A tiny bolt dropped into his hands. _She must be a troublemaker. All the scars across her back. Or perhaps she is privileged? Pain is cleansing – is she more pure than me? I'm not the model citizen by any means, but how can that be?_

His mind raced, though not too fast so the sensors would detect high brain activity. The job was more important anyway. Without a thought, he took the next rivet and placed it into the nearest hole, pressing the button before the beep was missed. He never knew how many he did in one day, but he never failed. To do so would be obsolete. He would never fail.


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

"How pitiful life is."

I sit in front of dozens of monitors, watching these lesser beings complete their daily tasks. Perhaps it is slightly mundane, perhaps even a bit demeaning, but, yet, it is my small part to the bureaucracy of Eogian society. Like them, I'm a cog in their great machine. But I'm still a bigger cog than they are, thankfully – I couldn't bare to look upon myself as a controlled drone.

Yes, I know, I look nothing like them. As I scratch my knuckles covered in fur, I'm constantly reminded of my family history, of how my grandfather supposedly assisted these invaders all those years ago. He handed over the blueprints to a bunker or something like that – I really don't care to remember. All I care is I don't have to be like _them_. I can eat real food, see real colors, breathe the clean air – even if it is rumored to be poisoned. Amazing how our government conspires against its own people.

Yet this is my life. I move from screen to screen, making sure these drones do their daily tasks. And if one slips, well, I'm in charge of assigning them to a "new location", which is code for tearing their little bodies to pieces. No one knows the wiser. It's so funny – we've had people for no reason drop dead at their post and are replaced within the hour, all the while no one even bats an eye. Sheep! Mere sheep!

"Did you say something, Joss?"

"Eh?"

"I thought I head something."

"No sir. It's probably from the main floor."

"Have you noticed any odd activity on the floor today?"

"No sir."

"Any violators?"

"I have yet to receive the report, sir."

"Over and out."

"The system keep you, sir."

"And to you the same, Joss."

All right, yes, he is my boss. And he was responsible for downsizing my domicile in half. But it's still bigger than the homes of this lot. Because after all, I'm not them. I'm different. I'm better than they are.

"The report of violators."

I comically wink. "Thank you."

As I scan through the rather short list, my eyes start to get heavy. This is truly too much work. I wish I had a pencil nearby so I could tape this list to a wall and play a little game of darts to determine who should be destroyed next. But, I'm too tired for that right now. There will be time for that tomorrow. There's always time for that.


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Joshuo waited nervously in line as he scanned over the entire area, searching for the girl who caused him trouble only one day ago. Yet, as he searched, he was careful not to rouse the suspicion of the guards near him. They too gazed out at the crowd of workers with blank "faces", gripping the colony in a perpetual state of paranoia. Hundreds had to be lining the walls in that complex, quickly defeating any attempt to do something even out of the least bit unorthodox. To do that was a sign of independence, and a sign of disloyalty.

"Hello."

Joshuo looked up and noticed the merging lines had pitted her in front of him. He kept his breath normal as he tried to look the other way.

"Hello."

Still struggling to find something else to occupy his time, Joshuo rubbed the lenses to his mask as they began to fog up from the hot fluid pouring out in the cleansing area ahead. He decided to stare at a guard and watch as he quickly and fleetingly moved his weapon – a prod – back to rest against his shoulder. He often wondered if the soldiers were real people or robots. He hoped the former, because he knew somewhere underneath the anger and conformity must beat a heart that still had shreds of mercy, mercy he hoped they'd show if the girl wouldn't stop talking to him.

"Hello."

He sighed slightly and looked up at the vixen. "Who are you talking to?" he finally asked.

"You, of course. Hello."

Hoping to prolong the moment, Joshuo watched as the next person in line moved to be cleansed. He would give anything to be in that person's shoes at that moment. His heart began to steadily race. His fingers began to tremble. And even his stomach felt like it was falling.

"Hello," he finally muttered.

"Are you feeling okay?"

Joshuo nodded, slightly at first, then more once he let another breath escape his grasp. He timidly rubbed the back of his neck. Suddenly, he felt a hand on his. He looked up to see it was the vixen's.

"Leave me alone!" Joshuo barked, then gasping after he realized what he had done.

"Why?"

He paused. "What do you mean why?"

As soon as he finished his last syllable she was manhandled and thrown into the direction of the cleansing chamber. Joshuo looked down at his hands. He could still feel the warmth of her touch. It was unusual, but it wasn't painful.

"Move!"

Bombarded by the probing hands of a line of soldiers, the fox stumbled into the room with a spigot looming from above. He clenched his teeth and waited for the stinging blast to strike his feeble frame like a hurricane to a rose. He kept his eyes open, however, and chose to stare at a great polyvinyl poster inscribed with the words "YOU ARE A BLOOD CELL. IF ARE A CANCER, THE BODY WILL ANNIHILATE YOU."

But the spigot was taking longer than it usually did. Finally, a red light began to flash in the chamber. As Joshuo turned to dread what was transpiring, he noticed a red beacon flashing with the word "invalid" written on it. His ears sunk as the word seemed to pierce his very mind. Invalid. Invalid. INVALID. Slowly his naked body sunk to the floor as the room pulsated with dowsing red light.

**2071-000023401. REPORT TO AREA 5-B TO RECEIVE DAILY NUTRIENTS AND PURIFICATION.**

_Purification? _He thought. _What do they mean by purification? And why am I receiving the daily nutrients now? Does this have to do with the girl? Or my creativity? Please, don't let them take this from me too!_

He was handed a black dress just like the one he wore before and a coat to complete the ensemble, but this coat had a single red stripe going down the back. His ears sank as he meekly stood and lifted his two legs periodically so magnetic boots could be fastened to them. _I've become different. I've spent my entire life wanting to be different. But now, oh why does it have to be now?_

A guard pushed the fox, but he knew where Area 5-B was. Taking in a deep sigh, Joshuo proceeded to the room where he typically received his nutrients. As he left the cleansing chamber, he thought he heard someone giving a worker instructions on how to be a riveter, which further sealed his fate. Joshuo cringed. _I'm going to die. What does that mean, to die? Is death better or worse than this? Will there be a sun or colors there? Will I have a strong body? Or a real face?_

Endless hallways were his only obstacle as he passed through the maze with ease under the watchful eye of cameras placed at very small intervals. The passageways were lined with doors. He constantly wondered what was behind those doors, especially the ones without any identification written on its steel selves. It was quiet too. Only his magnetic boots clanged through the cold and sterile hallways, all the way up to a door to his left, marked "111". With a hesitant grab, Joshuo kept his composure and entered.

**YOU WILL SIT DOWN.**

By now Joshuo had learned to ignore the loud, booming voice that seemed impossible to come from a living soul. The whole command seemed routine. With careful steps, he carefully sat in the chair as he extended the sleeve to his coat. Even at a quick glance one could tell his arm was riddled with black dots. Some dots were raised and painful to the touch. _No machine can be too perfect, right? If only I could be._

Cringing as the needle fed its way through his scarred arm, he turned to the side to ignore the terrible noise that came from the machine pumping fluid into his bloodstream. He was told countless times by the Eogos that the injection was more than what he needed, but he knew otherwise. He heard of people literally starving to death due to a machine malfunction in the transfer of nutrients. He recalled just last week a wolf a few years older than he was collapsed on the assembly line. He and the rest of the assembly line were told it was lack of nutrition and not to worry about it, but it was hard to do with the memory of his bony body entangled between two gears each weighing over two tons.

In no time, the needle was removed. Joshuo slowly let the air escape from his muzzle.

**SIT QUIETLY. THIS WILL ONLY TAKE ONE MOMENT.**

Joshuo began to breathe harder. He knew this was bad, as they could monitor things such as breathing and heartbeat, and would take action to correct it. But he couldn't help it. It was all so normal up to this point. It could change his life.

"What... what do you _want_ from me?" he finally shouted.

No one answered. Instead, he found himself immediately mechanically strapped into the chair. Remaining calm, he waited, using only his eyes to see what would happen next. Suddenly, a panel of the ceiling opened, revealing a long, jointed pipe, similar to the one that probed his body each morning before he started the workday. The end of it extended and burst open, revealing three sharp blades. The blades quickly began to rotate, and, with a final fluid motion, faced the riveter and moved closer to him. The artificial lighting glistened off of the spinning metal as Joshuo watched with fear.

_What does this mean? _He struggled to escape, but it was no use – his arms and legs were held fast. Even his boots were magnetized to the floor. But, even so, he felt like he was losing feeling in his extremities. _What's happening to me? _

**IN YOUR DEATH, THE SYSTEM BECOMES STRONGER. YOU ARE GRATEFUL FOR YOUR DEATH.**

(to reader: more to come… this is not the end)


End file.
